Bond and Free
by heyitsmima
Summary: In a last desperate act to save the Wizarding World from damnation, Dumbledore elicits the help of an Ancient people known only through legends. But their assistance only complicates things, and Severus Snape is caught in the middle of it all.
1. Prologue

_Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is JKR's. I'm merely tinkering with her playthings._

_Author's Note: Hello, hello! I've had this story in mind for a long, long time, and with the release of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2, I thought it was about time that I start writing it, in honor of the end. But it's never going to end for us, is it?_

_I will try to update once a week – everything is outlined and the first two chapters are done. I'm no good with long WIPs, so this will be brief, around 10 chapters plus this prologue and the epilogue. I'm determined to stick with it until the end!_

_Please review! They're energy bars for a lazy girl like me. And if you have any questions, feel free to ask them. Thank you!_

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><p><em><span>Prologue<span>_

Emilio Sanchez had lived through two world wars and one dictatorship, but he did not consider himself to be a man of great age. It was his wisdom that gave away his many years on this earth – a headmaster of the Philippines' best school for witchcraft and wizardry, an Elder and a great uncle to many nephews and nieces, he was well-known, well-respected and well-loved by the Philippine wizard community.

Sitting in his office in front of Albus Dumbledore, however, he felt incredibly old, small and belittled. Despite the fact that they were equals in terms of power and experience, the English wizard knew which of Emilio's buttons to push, and he pushed hard. He suddenly felt the weight of his years on his shoulders getting heavier and heavier as Dumbledore continued to argue with him.

Emilio buried his face in his hands. "You cannot ask this of me again, Albus. This is not our war."

"Quite the contrary, my friend," Dumbledore disagreed calmly. "Voldemort is gaining followers, and he is gaining them in a pace I cannot replicate. It will only be a matter of time before the Ministry falls."

"_Your _Ministry, Albus. _Your _government, not ours. Our people have been living in peace for the last half-century, a peace that we have fought for nearly half a millennia! You cannot force us to join a war that we have no part of." Emilio paused, his face solemn, his eyes almost tearful. "You cannot ask me to sacrifice one of _us _for a cause that we have no business being involved in."

Dumbledore rested two fingers on his lips. "It's not a sacrifice, Emilio. It's a... _Loan _of some sort."

"A loan? A _LOAN_?" Now Emilio was angry. "You treat my people as if they're objects to be lent!"

"Now, now, Emilio, I didn't mean it that way –"

"Then what did you mean? You come here with your plans and your manipulation, all for the name of love, all for the name of the Light. Do you actually know what love is, Dumbledore? Or are you concerned with your own retribution, with your own atonement that you will go to these lengths just to have things go your way?" Emilio's tone dripped with venom. "People are not pawns in a chessboard, Albus. Most especially _my_ people. We helped you once, and we almost lost two of our own. I don't think we can do it again."

"Do not make this about me, Emilio, because it isn't," Dumbledore said quietly.

There was heavy silence.

Dumbledore humbled himself in front of the Filipino wizard. "I'm sorry if I have offended you and your people, old friend, but I have come to ask for your help. I would not be here if it were not extremely necessary." He looked up at Emilio and showed him his blackened hand. "I'm dying, Emilio. And I am afraid."

Emilio's heart fell - he had never, after more than forty years of friendship, heard Albus Dumbledore admit that out loud. He suddenly felt pity for his old friend. "Your hand, Albus." He could not say anything that he felt could comfort him. "Voldemort's handiwork?"

"You could say that." He hid the cursed hand back in the folds of his robes. "Severus said that I have a year at most. After that, the Order is on its own." Dumbledore paused. "Emilio, please understand that this is the only choice I have left. I cannot leave the Order without protection, my friend. Times have changed, and different cards have been dealt. Please, Emilio."

Emilio took a deep breath. He looked at Albus and saw the desperation on his face. He sighed and inched closer to giving in. "You do understand that we cannot _formally_ take part in the war and declare ourselves to be your men. Our job is to protect, not to fight."

"Of course. That is all I ask."

"The Council of Elders convenes tonight. I will... _Inform _the Council of your concern, as I am morally bound to do, but I cannot promise you that they will agree to what you are asking of us. Do you understand what I'm trying to say, Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes. There is no guarantee."

"I suppose you'll be staying until the Council reaches a decision?"

"I hoped I could invade your hospitality a little more, yes. The journey was quite long."

"I can imagine. I'll have you're usual room ready for you in the eastern wing of the school." They both started to get up from their seats.

"Thank you, my friend. I don't know how to thank... I owe you more than a life-debt now," Dumbledore said tearfully, extending his left hand to rest it on Emilio's shoulder.

Emilio embraced his friend. The First War felt more hopeful, more sanguine, but this time around... It was truly the first time that he had seen the great Albus Dumbledore vulnerable and desperate. The sight of his friend breaking apart was troubling, and no matter how much he wanted to stay out of a war his people had no business being involved in, he could not help but think of all the lives that could be spared if he were to help in any way.

After a long pause, he said, "I will try my best to help you win this war, Albus."

A heavy shadow seemed to leave Dumbledore's face. "Thank you, Emilio. Words cannot express how grateful I am for all that you have done for me. It's more than I deserve, surely."

Emilio sighed and shook his head. "The things we do for the people we love."

"You are absolutely right," Dumbledore replied solemnly.

The school's great grandfather clock chimed and its otherworldly sound echoed through the halls of Emilio Sanchez's beloved institution. As he escorted Albus Dumbledore to his quarters, Emilio felt dread slowly seize his nerves. For the second time in his life, the great wizard Albus Dumbledore had brought a war into his home. And he allowed him to.

_As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be, world without end. May God have mercy on our souls._

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><p><em>Author's Note: Too many notes, I know! But just a little tidbit, the title of my story comes from Robert Frost's poem of the same name. Go ahead, check it out. It's a wonderful poem. <em>


	2. One

_Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is JKR's. I'm merely tinkering with her playthings._

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><p><em><span>One<span>_

His black robes billowed behind him as he walked angrily towards the Headmaster's office. _Bastard, _Snape thought as he reached the gargoyle statue. "Red vines!" he spit out, and the gargoyle revealed the staircase to Dumbledore's office. _Fucking bastard. _Severus Snape was seething with rage as he opened the door. "You leave the castle without a single word, without anyone knowing where you are, with that _blasted _curse eating away at you, and you come and _summon _me like a little boy off to be punished."

Dumbledore motioned for the Potions master to calm down. "Now, now, Severus. That is not the way to welcome our guest now, is it?" He turned his head to the direction of a pretty brunette standing behind Severus, concealed by the many trinkets in Dumbledore's office. Snape turned to her with a scowl and said nothing.

"Hello," she greeted the dour professor.

_You are really one hell of a bastard, Albus Dumbledore. _Snape straightened and wiped his face of emotion."Forgive me for my lack of... Restraint," he said to her.

She smiled at him. "Don't think anything of it."

There was silence as they both stared at each other.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Please, both of you, sit. Now Severus, as to your dramatic entrance and diatribe, I was away at a friend's, picking up the lovely Nala Dominique Ayala." He smiled at the girl sitting in front of Severus Snape. "She will be joining us this semester as Madam Pince's replacement."

Nala extended her hand to Snape. "Nala, please. It's a pleasure to meet you, Professor."

Snape received her hand reluctantly. "You're not British."

She laughed. "Was it the accent that gave me away? No, I'm not. I'm Filipino."

Snape raised an eyebrow and turned to Dumbledore. "You traveled all the way to the Philippines to find us a new librarian?"

"Not just _a _librarian." Dumbledore chuckled. "But _this _particular librarian."

Snape turned his attention back to the woman sitting in front of him. _You? What's so special about you? _She smiled at him and shrugged. Her cheerful demeanor unnerved him. "I'm afraid I don't understand," he said, a statement directed more at Nala than at Dumbledore.

Dumbledore took off his half-moon spectacles. "Have you ever heard of the Ancients, Severus?"

Snape snickered. "Of course, Dumbledore. Every witch and wizard in this continent has probably heard the legend of the Ancient People more than once in their childhood."

"A legend? No, of course not, my dear Severus. They're as real as you and me. Am I right, Nala?"

She nodded at Dumbledore. "Hello, Professor," she greeted Snape again, her smile wider this time.

Snape looked at Nala, and then back at Dumbledore. "You mean to tell me..." He didn't quite have the right words. "Our new librarian is an Ancient?" Dumbledore gave him a curt nod, and Snape laughed. Nala and Dumbledore looked at each other amusingly. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Snape said, trying to control his emotions. "This is all just ridiculous. An _Ancient _in front of me." He continued laughing as if it were the funniest thing in the world.

"Nala?" Dumbledore said, as if to instruct her.

Nala nodded and turned to Snape. "Professor, could you give me your hands, please?"

Snape stopped laughing. "Pardon?"

"Just do as she says, Severus."

Snape sighed and gave in, opening his palms upward and extending them towards Nala. She rested her palms on top of his. "Close your eyes," she directed, and he obeyed. She followed suit and began to recite a series of incantations in a language that Snape did not understand. Suddenly, a cool feeling engulfed every single part of his body, and he was gone – gone from Hogwarts, gone from the war. He was becoming lighter and lighter, like a balloon taking its flight with the sky as its limit. He felt a certain sense of peace that he could not truly describe. There was nothing else – no war, no masters. He was _free. _

Nala withdrew her hands and he was back in Dumbledore's office. He opened his eyes only to be welcomed back by Nala's smiling face. He looked at Dumbledore, confused but to his surprise, his anger for the old man's unforeseen absence had completely dissipated. He turned his gaze back to Nala. "How do you feel, Professor?" she asked gently.

"I don't - What was that?"

"A healing." Nala leaned closer towards him. "_Utak," _she said, touching his forehead. "_Puso," _she continued, touching his chest. "_At katawan," _she ended, touching his stomach. Mind, heart and body. "It's designed to heal surface wounds, calm the mind and strengthen the heart. The feeling of peace doesn't last forever, but it's enough to give one strength to continue the task at hand. It's not done often – it is believed that to rely on it too much would be the death of a person's spirit."

Snape sat there, dumbfounded. He did not understand anythingat all that Nala had said. It was surely a magic that he had never encountered before, but what was its purpose? Had Dumbledore lost faith in him? Was she here to _egg him on?_

"Voldemort is not a very nice wizard, is he? The scars you have received from him run deep. I tried my best to heal them," she told him tenderly. "But then again, your heart has deeper scars. That you'll have to heal on your own."

Snape stared at her incredulously. _Who is this woman? What right does she have looking into my heart? _As he was about to open his mouth to retort, Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Now, Severus." There was a little bit of impatience in his tone. "I do not have much time, as I have Harry's business to attend to in the evening. Nala's role in this war is to protect, Severus. _To protect. _Not to fight." Snape nodded, agreeing without understanding. "Her identity as an Ancient _must _be kept a secret, do you understand? Voldemort must not know, lest we all perish. If she is captured or is killed, we all die." The heavy silence was thick with unanswered questions. Dumbledore continued. "Professor McGonagall will be informed of Nala's true nature in due course. Hermione Granger as well." Snape nodded again, acquiescing to all that Dumbledore had said. "Nala will answer any questions you might have, but for now I must leave."

And Dumbledore disappeared, leaving Snape with a million unanswered questions and a strange woman he still did not completely trust.

* * *

><p>"Professor?" Nala inquired tentatively as she knocked on Snape's door. The door opened and she entered. "Hello, Professor," she greeted with a smile.<p>

"Please call me Severus," he told her tonelessly. "You are, after all, the new Hogwarts librarian, not a student."

"Alright then," she replied.

Nobody talked for a moment. Snape stared at the cackling fire while Nala surveyed his private quarters. It was simple, a no frills type of room decked in earth tones and warm, comfortable-looking furniture. One side of the room was filled with books from ceiling to floor. There were no pictures, no sign of individuality and personal space – it was a room meant for sleeping and working.

Snape cleared his throat, breaking the silence that hung heavily in the air. "Please have a seat. To what do I owe the pleasure, Ms. Ayala?"

"Call me Nala, please. I came to see if you were alright. Your abrupt exit from the Headmaster's office after Dumbledore took his leave worried me a little. It was not the reaction I expected from you." She took a seat on the couch beside his armchair.

"I do not like what I do not understand," he said bluntly.

Nala gave him a small smile. "I figured as much." She took a small, palm-sized envelope from the inside of her robes and enlarged it. "This contains everything that is to know about me – where I studied, what my marks were, who my professors were. Any necessary information you might want to know about my life is in that envelope. Read it, and burn it afterwards." She placed the envelop on the coffee table. "But there are questions that cannot be answered by what you will find there." She paused. "Questions about my people." She paused again, waiting for him to speak. When he didn't, she continued. "Ask me now, Severus. My oath requires me to tell you all that you want to know."

"Your oath?" he asked suspiciously.

She laughed. "Don't be so distrustful, Severus. It is nothing like the Unbreakable Vow that you made."

Snape straightened up and became more suspicious. "How do you –"

Nala cut him off. "I looked into your heart and tried to heal it, remember? I felt its heavy weight. It must be a very arduous vow."

Snape turned back his gaze at the fireplace. "Yes. Yes it is." There was silence again in the room.

"My oath is to protect you, protect the school, protect the Order, protect Harry Potter until the very end. I answer to you, to Professor McGonagall and to Hermione Granger."

"Not to Dumbledore?"

Nala shook her head. "Maybe if I show you, you'll understand better. Come, stand up and take my hand." Snape hesitated. "Trust me," she assured him. "My job is to protect, remember?" He tilted his head and did as she asked.

It didn't feel like apparition nor did it feel like looking at memories in a Pensieve. It was more like Quidditch than anything else – the wind on his face, the freedom of flight. There were millions and millions of colors around them, like traveling across space and into the beautiful nebulas, into nothingness.

But then their feet hit the ground. They were in an empty cave. "Where exactly are we?" Snape asked Nala.

"My country. Tabon Cave, three days ago. Look." Nine figures appeared, dressed in what Severus could only describe as a riot of tribal patterns – deep golds, reds, greens and blues. They sat in a circle, whispering to each other. Another Nala entered the cave. The one beside Snape smiled. "That's me, look!" she whispered, and she laughed at herself. Snape looked at her strangely. "This is the Council of Elders," she explained. "The leaders of my people."

Then there was silence. Everyone stopped talking. The Nala in the memory took her place in the center of the circle. Snape took a good look at each of the nine Elders – seven of them were of great age, probably even older than Dumbledore. There were two, however, who seemed only as old as he was. Nala noticed him staring at them and said, "My parents, Julio and Athena." He nodded at her in acknowledgment. She pointed at another man beside her mother. "Emilio Sanchez, my uncle and Dumbledore's friend." Before Snape could reply, the Council called the meeting

"_Welcome, Nala," said one. "We are grateful for your presence at today's Council."_

_This was no happy, smiling Nala. This was a powerful, solemn and serious witch about to embark on something dangerous. "So am I, Elder Dante. I am honored to be here."_

"_To business, Nala," Elder Dante continued. "The Council assumes that you have spoken to Albus Dumbledore about his request."_

_Nala nodded. "Yes, Elder."_

_The witch to Elder Dante's right began to speak. "The Council would like to hear your opinions on the matter."_

_Nala took a moment to compose herself and gather her thoughts. Despite the fact that she had grown up listening and learning from the Elders (and having two out of nine as her parents), Council meetings always left her nervous. But she took her nerves aside and mustered all the confidence she had. "I believe that his cry for help is genuine. I believe that their war has grown to a magnitude that Dumbledore has not foreseen. I believe Dumbledore when he says that our help is his last resort."_

_Her father spoke. "If you were to decide then, Nala, would you grant his request?"_

_Nala gazed at her father intently. "Yes. Under certain conditions."_

_The Council started whispering once more. Elder Dante lifted his right hand and silence was given. "Please explain, Nala."_

"_The Ancient tasked to aid the Order must not answer to Dumbledore," she said sternly. _

"_And why is that?" asked another Elder._

"_Because I don't trust him."_

_Her parents and Emilio looked triumphant, and Elder Dante ordered the Council once more to quiet down. "Please elaborate further, Nala."_

"_He has not lied to us, but he has not told us the whole truth. I do not doubt Albus Dumbledore's loyalty to the cause of the Light, but I doubt his methods and his intentions. He may be the great Albus Dumbledore, but he is just a man driven by his own ambitions." She paused, scanning the room for any violent reactions. "He is just a man," she repeated for emphasis._

_Elder Dante nodded. "Would you have any other conditions?"_

"_Yes. The Ancient must have contact with Harry Potter and his friends should Hogwarts fall and they be forced into hiding. He should have an ally in the castle. His true nature as an Ancient must be kept a secret from the other members of the Order."_

"_Except, of course, Dumbledore, the ally and one of Harry Potter's friends," clarified Elder Dante._

"_Of course."_

"_And what of Severus Snape?" her mother asked her suddenly._

_She looked directly at her mother. "He must be protected at all costs."_

"_Why?" asked another Elder._

"_Because despite Dumbledore's insistence that the fate of the wizarding world lies on Harry Potter, it does not. It lies on Severus Snape's ability to keep his cover for as long as he can."_

The memory blurred and shifted. Snape stood beside the real Nala, dumbfounded and strangely, largely affected by her defense of him. The memory stilled and settled. They were still in the cave, but Dumbledore was there, gripping Nala's elbow as she was gripping his. Their wands were pointed at each other.

"The oath-taking," Nala whispered.

"_We abide by the laws of Ancient Magic. We swear to protect and to uphold the laws that have governed us since time immemorial. We submit to the powers that have allowed us to walk on this earth."_

"_I, Nala Dominique Ayala, vow to uphold the laws of my people, to safeguard those who have sought the protection of Ancient Magic. Under the conditions that I have set in my heart and mind, I shall keep this oath until my obligation is accomplished or shall I perish in line of duty."_

"_I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, vow to uphold the laws of the Ancient people, to respect the wishes of she who has granted protection to my people. Under the conditions that has been set in her heart and mind, I shall keep this oath until her obligation is accomplished or shall she perish in line of duty."_

Then they were flying again, and then back in Snape's quarters. He opened his eyes and let go of her hand. He sat on the couch, weary. Nala would just be another complication, another lie he'd have to keep track of. He was keeping too many secrets, and he wasn't sure if he could keep one more – especially one of this consequence. "I suppose Albus wasn't very happy of your terms," he finally said after a long silence.

Nala chuckled and took a seat beside him. "No. He does not like not being in control." She sighed. "But those were my terms and he needed me. He had to agree."

"Why did they send you? You're too young to be part of this war."

"And Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter aren't?"

"They are not here by choice," he defended. "But you are. It doesn't seem like you were forced by the Elders to come here."

She took a more comfortable position on the couch and tucked in her legs. She tilted her head and studied the drained professor. "Would you like me to fix that?" she asked him.

"Fix what?"

"Your exhaustion."

"I don't need fixing, nor do I need protection," he spat out.

She smiled at him. "Of course."

"You haven't answered my question."

"Which one?"

"The reason why _you _were the one sent."

"I did not choose, rather I was chosen."

"Why?"

"My parents were part of the First War."

That got all of Snape's attention. "_Your parents? _Julio and Athena?"

Nala nodded and almost laughed at his incredulity. "Of the Council of Elders? Yes. You didn't expect that, didn't you?"

Snape was too surprised to answer.

She took a deep breath and began to narrate. "When the Potters had gone into hiding, Dumbledore went to ask my uncle for help. My parents weren't Elders then, so the Council sent them to protect the Order. The night the Potters were killed was the night my parents arrived from home." She stopped and looked at Snape's blank face, hoping for a reaction, some semblance of emotion. "They went straight to Godric's Hollow. When they arrived, James was dead and Voldemort almost killed them. Lily was already dead when they regained consciousness." She took a breath. "With Voldemort gone, their obligation to protect had been accomplished. They returned to the Philippines after making sure that all was safe."

_Their obligation to protect had been accomplished. _Snape repeated that line in his head. _It was never accomplished, you fool, _he wanted to say to her. _Lily is dead. _But he kept his mouth shut.

Despite his best efforts to conceal what he felt about Lily's death, Nala still sensed his sadness and anger. "It all happened too fast, Severus. It was barely a week after the Potters moved into Godric's Hollow. Dumbledore tried his best to protect them, but the Potters put their faith in the wrong person."

_The Potters put their faith in the wrong person. _Oh, how many times had he wished that they hadn't? How many times had he wanted to take everything back?

"No use dwelling in the past, Severus," she told him softly, snapping him out of his depressing reverie. "I'll leave you be. I'm sure you're exhausted from everything that you've learned tonight." She walked towards the door, and as she opened it to take her leave, took one last look at him and said, "The actions of a madman are not your fault." And she left.

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><p>He did not know how long he had been staring at the fire. It might have been an hour, maybe three, or maybe even just a moment – but he had been staring at the chaos of red, orange and yellow, his mind going a thousand miles a minute when he remembered the envelope that Nala had given him. He grabbed it from the coffee table, opened it violently, hungry for more answers. <em>Tell me who you are, Nala Ayala.<em>

There were dozens of documents in the seemingly thin envelope. He took everything out, piled them neatly beside him on the couch and started to read like a little child finally eating after going through years of famine.

It was obvious to Snape that very early on in her childhood years, Nala was already a powerful and brilliant witch. At the age of twelve, Emilio had suggested to Julio and Athena that she be privately tutored, fearing that a strict and controlled education would inhibit her learning and the development of her powers. She was sent to the Ateneo, a prestigious university that housed both muggle and magical students, under the care of Jesuit wizard Ben Nebres, where she was not just a student of Ancient magic, but of the world – she was taught culture, language, literature and magic from all continents. She was educated as both a muggle and a witch. She had a flair for Defense Against the Dark Arts, Healing and muggle Psychology. Her essays and papers were flawless, and her marks were topnotch. At twenty she was sent back to her people, where the Council of Elders personally oversaw to her continuing education in advanced Ancient Magic.

_Impressive, _Snape thought. _Too bad Dumbledore consigned you to the library. _She would have made an excellent teacher.

As Snape read on, he realized that Nala's brilliance was a complete waste in that tiny little country. She was a woman educated in the ways of the world, but didn't genuinely know what the _real _world was. She was twenty-three and had been sheltered her whole life. Until now.

Then it dawned on him. _She wanted to come. _It seemed to him that although she was chosen for this, it wasn't exactly against her wishes. She had asked for this. She had asked to be part of a war she did not need to be part of.

_Idiot. _

The pile of documents ended with pictures of her - pictures from when she was a little girl, playing on the beach with her mother, reading a book in a library, passionately debating with her private tutor. Her graduation picture was the last of the bunch, with her clad in a magnificent blue toga, smiling widely. She looked so young, carefree and beautiful.

It took all he had to toss her file in the fire.

Somehow, he felt a pang in his heart knowing that the girl with the big smile on her graduation day would never be the same again.


	3. Two

_Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is JKR's. I'm merely tinkering with her playthings._

_Author's Note: I finished Chapter 3 earlier than expected, so here I am posting Chapter 2! People have been adding this to their favorite stories and story alerts, but no one has reviewed yet. I'll keep posting as long as there's traffic and people keep reading, but I'd appreciate it greatly if y'all were to review. Thank you, and enjoy._

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><p><em><span>Two<span>_

Dumbledore introduced her during the Welcome Feast as _"The New Librarian from Sunny Spain," _replacing Madam Pince as the ex-librarian opted to travel with her husband around America. She and Dumbledore had agreed that revealing her true nationality would raise eyebrows and start a line incessant questioning from curious individuals. They were not technically lying, though – the Ayalas had migrated from Spain to the Philippines in the early 1900s, and Nala did speak fluent Spanish. But because of that, however, the students then assumed that she couldn't speak a word of English and talked to her in a rather slow and deliberate tone. It was funny, if not a little insulting. It was a shame that very few students came into the library – she had very little entertainment to go by.

So when she heard whispering from the corner where Harry, Ron and Hermione were trying to hide themselves, she concealed herself behind a shelf and moved closer towards them, making sure to listen intently.

"...Draco's doing! He left that cursed necklace for Katie Bell to find –" she heard Harry say.

"Stop it, stop it right now Harry! I've heard this a thousand times, we don't have any proof!" argued Hermione. Nala heard scribbling on a parchment.

"But what if Harry's right, Hermione? What if Draco's taken the Dark Mark and –" said Ron.

"Both of you, stop it! I will not be part of this stupidity. Go ahead and chase all this nonsense while I find out more about what Dumbledore's been teaching you, Harry." Nala heard a book close and a chair move. She watched as Hermione turned to leave and bump into someone. "Oh, good evening Professor McGonagall."

"Good evening, Miss Granger. I trust that you're on your way back to the Gryffindor common room? It's almost curfew."

"Yes, Professor." She paused. "So were Harry and Ron." She glowered at her boys.

There were shuffling of paper and slamming of books. Harry and Ron quickly took their place behind Hermione. "We were just leaving, Professor."

"Off you go, then." And Golden Trio exited the library.

Nala returned to reorganizing the Herbology books, her brain going as fast as the newest Firebolt. Draco Malfoy taking the Dark Mark? And Dumbledore giving Harry Potter private lessons? Dumbledore had not divulged that particular piece of information to her. Clearly the Headmaster has not told her everything that she needed to know – or did he think that she didn't need to know everything?

She was right about not trusting the old wizard.

"Nala?" It was Professor McGonagall. She was giving Nala a kind, motherly look, and for a while forgot what she was formulating in her head about Albus Dumbledore. "Professor McGonagall," she greeted with feigned surprise.

"How many times must I tell you to call me Minerva?"

Nala smiled at her. "Minerva, then." Then her face became solemn. "How is Miss Bell doing?"

"She was transferred to St. Mungo's this morning. She's stable," McGonagall replied gravely.

"Some good news, at least."

McGonagall gave her a small smile and changed the subject. "Are you quite busy? I would love it if we could talk somewhere private."

"Nothing I can't continue working on tomorrow. Would my quarters be alright?"

McGonagall nodded. "Of course."

Minutes later, they were in Nala's quarters having tea. McGonagall was looking around, taking in the lack of personality of the room. Her room was simple, really. There was a living area in the center of the room, and her bed opposite it. There were few books and even fewer personal items.

McGonagall cleared her throat and put down her cup. "It's a shame you have no photos of your family around." She stopped to think. "Let me rephrase that. It's a shame you can't put photos of your family around." She smiled at the young witch sadly. "I suppose you know why I'm here."

"You've been told," Nala said bluntly.

McGonagall laughed. "Yes. Dumbledore informed me yesterday about your true... Nature? I should say." She took a sip of her tea. "It wasn't much of a surprise. When I first met you, I assumed that you were one of them. You look a lot like your father, Julio."

"You knew my parents," Nala deduced.

"I wouldn't say I knew them. Not very well, at least. Julio and Athena came a little too late to party."

"They were supposed to protect the Potters."

McGonagall sighed. "It was probably the way it was supposed to happen. They stayed, of course, for a while after the fall of Voldemort. They made sure Harry was alright with the Dursleys." She paused and took a deep breath. "They were interesting people, your parents. They had a different aura about them."

Nala chuckled. "I can imagine they were quite strange for you."

"Oh no, not at all. They could have been as British as Albus and I, without the accent. They were just... I don't know. Their magic, the feel of them was different." She looked at Nala and took another sip of her tea. "Just like you."

"I'll do my very best to protect Harry," she assured the old witch.

"I know. I came here to thank you, and to tell you to be careful, my dear. If Voldemort finds out about you, he'll –"

"I know, Minerva." She took McGonagall's hand. "I know."

McGonagall nodded and smiled gratefully at her. "So, how are you finding Hogwarts?" she asked the young librarian, and the tone of their conversation lightened afterwards. McGonagall inquired about Nala's life, how her parents were doing, and her thoughts about students at Hogwarts and wizarding Britain in general. They veered away from talk of war, of death, of Voldemort - there would be more time for that later. But now, they would enjoy each other's company, get to know each other, build the alliance that could help save Hogwarts and its students from Voldemort's bloody rule.

It didn't last, however. An anxious and rather painful feeling started to creep up Nala's spine and her head started to throb. She fell from her chair and her teacup shattered on the floor.

"Nala? Are you alright?" asked McGonagall worriedly.

"Has anyone been out of the castle tonight?" Nala asked in between bouts of head pain.

McGonagall shook her head. "Not that I am aware of. Should I call Madam Pomfrey? Or perhaps the Headmaster?"

"No!" said Nala fiercely. "Do not call either of them." She took a deep breath and started to sing a healing incantation, and the pain subsided but continued to pulsate in her chest. "That was a warning," Nala explained. "Someone's been hurt." And then it dawned on her. Who could be the only one who would leave the castle at this time of the night and return hurt? "Minerva," she told the old witch as she started to get up. "Return to your quarters. Do not worry about me, do you understand?"

"But, Nala –"

"Trust me," she reassured McGonagall kindly. "Go, Minerva."

Despite her objections, McGonagall acquiesced and Flooed to her quarters. Nala raced to the dungeons.

The wards protecting his private quarters were up, and she had no choice but to penetrate them with Ancient magic. She found Snape lying on the floor, convulsing and screaming, blood seeping through his robes. Nala soundproofed the room and put up new wards. She sat beside him, held his head and diagnosed him as he continued to scream and convulse. _Torture with Cruciatus, poisoned whipping. _She took off his robes and his shirt and diagnosed his scars. _Surface wounds, but the poison could reach his blood stream. _She performed Legilimency. _His brain is still functioning and his walls are up. _She released a giant sigh of relief. _Good, Severus. Don't give up on me yet. _She gently levitated him to his bed. The screaming had died down.

She took his hands and pressed her forehead to hers. "This is going to hurt, Severus. I'm so sorry." She kissed his forehead and started her incantations.

He started to scream again.

* * *

><p>It was already noon when Snape woke up. His eyesight was blurred at first, which wasn't unusual, but he wasn't in pain. He braced himself for the agony that usually came after Voldemort's torture sessions, yet only a throbbing of the head came, and it was more of a vodka hangover than the after-effect of the Cruciatus. He checked his chest and was surprised to find that his whipping wounds were healed. He started to get up, but decided against it. His body was rigid, heavy, and nausea started to creep up from his stomach and into his throat.<p>

He couldn't suppress it. He vomited on his bedside.

Someone jumped on his bed and held his hair as he puked. "I'm sorry, I was asleep." It was Nala. She stroked his bare back. When he finished, she vanished his vomit and handed him a small flask.

"What's this?" he asked weakly, his voice hoarse.

"I used Ancient magic to heal you. Too much of it can react with the body of a non-Ancient," she explained and opened the flask for him. "It's to counter the effects."

Snape nodded and drank the flask without further question. Once he finished, he collapsed back on the bed, his body slowly easing back into normal function. He closed his eyes and let the wave of Ancient magic ride his body.

"Feeling better?" Nala asked softly. She continued to sit beside him on the bed.

He nodded. "Did you stay here all night?"

"Yes. I had to make sure you were alright."

"Did Dumbledore tell you I was summoned?"

Nala snickered. "Dumbledore doesn't seem to find it necessary to tell me any of these things lately."

"Then how did you know –"

"My oath, remember?" She lifted his blanket to check his scars. "Good, they've completely disappeared."

"I don't understand," Snape said, confused.

"My oath finds ways for me to know."

He still did not understand, but he let the matter slide. He would interrogate her about it later. Despite her excellent healing skills, he was exhausted, physically and mentally. He found himself slowly drifting back into the darkness of sleep. "Nala," he called her with the last vestiges of his consciousness.

"Yes?" she answered softly.

"Thank you." And he fell into blackness.

* * *

><p>Snape blinked and washed back onto the shores of consciousness. There was no headache, no nausea - he felt light, healthy and in tiptop shape. But he sensed that not all was well around him - two people were penetrating the peace of his quarters.<p>

"Absolutely not! Let me remind you, Nala –" It was Dumbledore.

"No, Headmaster. Let me remind you that it was _you _who asked for the help of my people! Don't go around treating me as if I'm one of the pawns on your chessboard, Dumbledore. I'm not," Nala told the Headmaster angrily.

"I was not implying that you were, Nala. I was merely saying that things are more complicated than you think."

"Do you think I don't understand that, Dumbledore? I'm not stupid. The Malfoy kid has taken the Dark Mark and you neglect to tell me. Severus was called by Voldemort last night and you didn't have the sense to inform me! If I had not found him, if I had not _sensed _that something was amiss -"

Dumbledore cut her off. "But you did sense that something was wrong. That makes all the difference. There is no need for you to know everything, my dear."

Snape could feel Nala's frustration with the Headmaster. "The point is, Dumbledore, you have not told me _anything_! How am I supposed to protect your precious _pawns," _the word dripped with venom, "if I don't know what to protect them from?"

Before Dumbledore could answer, Snape heard the door open with a bang. "This conversation is over. I'd appreciate it if you leave. Severus is resting," she ordered him bitterly.

"Very well." And Snape heard the door bang shut.

He heard her curse exasperatedly in a variety of different languages. She sat down on the couch and sighed. Then, "I know you're awake," she said with amusement. "Did you like the entertainment?"

He smiled to himself. "I enjoyed it very much."

"How are you feeling?" she asked gently.

_Wonderful. _"Good."

She smiled. "Put some clothes on and eat. I had this sent from the kitchens not ten minutes ago." There was a tray of sandwiches and tea on the coffee table. He got up, put on a white shirt and joined her on the couch.

"Nala."

"Hm?"

"Please don't do this again."

She turned to him, confused. "I'm sorry?"

"Take care of me. Baby me. Defend my honor. I'm used to being on my own."

She smiled sadly. "Oh, Severus."

"Do you understand, Nala?" He stared at her intensely, hoping to pierce her kindness with his austere and disagreeable manner.

But Nala only smiled, unaffected. She got up and stood beside him. "Maybe it's time you let someone else take care of you, Severus. You've been saving everybody for far too long." She kissed the top of his head and left.

He sat there and stared at the door that she had shut behind her, speechless and dumbfounded. Nala had found him writhing on the floor, had tended to his wounds and had stayed with him the whole night. But most importantly, she had argued with Dumbledore and told him to fuck off. How was it that this woman knew how he felt about Dumbledore and his precious plans? How was it that she felt the same way?

The feel of her lips lingered on the spot where she kissed him.

* * *

><p>He was tired. He was very, very tired. He was tired of spying, he was tired of lying, he was tired of the war. He was sure Dumbledore could see the exhaustion etched on his face, yet the Headmaster played games with him, pulled strings like they were puppets and not real people. Snape had almost had it. His patience was thinning and he was reaching his tipping point. "You expect too much of me, Albus," said Snape wearily.<p>

There was no answer from the Headmaster. "You expect too much of her," Snape remarked bravely.

That caught Dumbledore's attention. "Severus, do not tell me you care for her."

"What, am I supposed to have a heart of stone? She healed me and stood vigil at my bedside to make sure I was alright. She has shown me more kindness than anyone has ever had."

"And Lily?"

Snape stopped dead in his tracks. There was Dumbledore's secret weapon – Lily _fucking _Potter. Invoking her name was like bringing back the memories, the suffering - bringing back the dead. There was silence in the Headmaster's office and he almost felt the ghost of Lily Potter in the room and it brought about a painful feeling, not the joy that Snape felt when Lily was beside him, when Lily was still his friend. _When he had not fucked everything up._ "Don't, Albus. Don't go there."

"Surely you realize that the moment you stop fighting for Lily -"

"Is the moment we will lose this war," he finished. Of course he knew that. What good would he be then without his love for Lily? Without his hunger to avenge her death? He locked eyes with the Headmaster and stared at him with a hard look on his face. "But Nala's right, Albus. If you don't tell her anything, she will not be able to do her job."

"She doesn't need to be told anything. Her oath will see to it that she does her job," Dumbledore told him dismissively.

Snape pounded his fist on the table. "That's utter shit, and you know it!" He glared at Dumbledore. "You're angry that you don't have control over her, so you keep her from knowing what she needs to know. You are deliberately leaving her blind so she can come crawling to you, begging for your forgiveness." Snape's face twisted into a grimace.

"Believe me when I say, Severus, that everything I do has a rhyme and a reason," Dumbledore told him calmly. "_Everything."_

* * *

><p>Minutes after the frustrating meeting in Dumbledore's office, he was knocking on Nala's door.<p>

He was angry at the Headmaster, and he did not see logic in his reasoning. _You ask for her help and you shun her away – what the hell is wrong with you, Albus? _He was angry that he was taking Nala for granted. He was angry that he was taking _him _for granted, and he was fed up with all the lying and the scheming. _When was he ever going to have peace?_

The door opened and behind it was a smiling Nala in boxers and a camisole, her hair chaotic, looking more beautiful than he remembered. The last time he saw her was three days ago, and he was surprised to know that her friendly, stunning face relaxed him. He gave her the best smile he could come up with under the circumstance. "I'm sorry to intrude -"

"Oh, Severus you look tired," she said sadly.

He was taken aback by her observation. _How could she know how he felt? _Surely this was all some sort of trick, some power that she had. "I came to tell you –"

She waved away what he was going to say. "Please come in. Make yourself at home. There's tea on the coffee table, help yourself."

He stared at her in disbelief. "Nala, please –"

"Severus. Sit down, calm yourself. Have tea, and then we'll talk." Snape had no choice but to follow orders as she disappeared into the bathroom, only to emerge moments later wrapped in a bathrobe, her long wavy hair rolled up in a messy bun. She sat across from him and extended her arms, as if to say, _well, go ahead. Talk. _"What is it?"

"I've come from Dumbledore's office."

Nala raised an eyebrow. "I assume that it wasn't a very good meeting."

Snape chuckled. "That would be the understatement of the century." His face darkened. He sat for a moment, thinking, staring at Nala. _I can trust you, can't I?_ "I've come tell you about Dumbledore's plans."

Nala's mood shifted from amused to concerned. "Severus, are you sure about this? Has the Headmaster signed off on you telling me?"

"No," he replied bluntly.

"Severus." She rested her chin on her knuckles and studied him carefully. "You do understand that the Headmaster has reasons for keeping things from me?"

"Yes, though I don't believe his reasons to be logical. He is blinded by emotion that he can't seem to think straight." There was anger in Snape's voice.

"Aren't you also blinded by emotion by wanting to tell me, Severus?"

_Damn this woman. Goddamn this woman. _"What are you trying to imply? That I'm as mad as Dumbledore?"

"Of course not. I'm merely insisting that you think about what you're about to do." She paused. Then, "I won't deny that I want to know what Dumbledore has in store for us, and I won't deny that I want you to tell me, but I want you to do it for the right reasons, Severus." She smiled at him.

_I'm afraid. I don't want to be alone in this. You seem to be the only one I can trust. _"Draco Malfoy has been given a task by the Dark Lord. He wants Draco to kill Dumbledore." He hesitated. Nala waited patiently, watching him with kind eyes. He looked back at them, hoping for comfort.

"Dumbledore wants me to do it. He has ordered me to kill him."


	4. Three

_Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is JKR's. I'm merely tinkering with her playthings._

_Author's Note: I'm really sorry for the long wait! Chapter 4 was being such a bitch, and I didn't want to update while Chapter 4 wasn't well on its way to the finish line. Nonetheless, I'm halfway done with the fourth chapter, so here's a rather lengthy third chapter to quench your thirst for the next couple of days. Schoolwork is already piling up, so updates won't be as quick as the first couple of chapters. Hope you all understand._

_As usual, reviews help feed my very hungry muse._

* * *

><p><em><span>Three<span>_

Christmas has always been her favorite season. In the Philippines, they would deck the school with balls and lanterns of different shapes, sizes and colors. The Philippines was always hot, even during the holidays, so her Uncle Emilio would charm the halls with a bit of snow and a colder temperature. Their version of the Great Hall would have a giant pine tree decorated with all sorts of crazy ornaments from tribes all over the country. There were parties, dances, food enough to feed a thousand and a wonderful exchanging of gifts that included all students, teachers and parents. But if there was one thing that Nala loved about Christmas in the Philippines, it was the love of family that was palpable in the air wherever you went.

She had never felt so alone, so afraid in her life. Snape's revelation about Dumbledore's plans rocked her world, causing her neatly coordinated strategies of protecting the school, the Order, the Golden Trio and Severus Snape to go down the drain. She was back to square one. She felt foolish and weak, like a straight-A student getting an F for the first time in her life. She was terrified out of her wits, and she would have to piece everything back together one by one. The game had changed, and the ball was not in their court.

She had never yearned this much for a Philippine Christmas.

Nala was not used to the cold of winter. Despite the warming charms and the lit fireplace in her quarters, she still felt the cold seeping through her skin, but she hardly cared. She was sitting on the couch, staring at the small package on her lap. Maybe her Uncle Emilio was right. There was a part of the memory in the cave that she didn't show Snape. She thought it exhibited her weakness, her Achilles' heel, and that it would have been best not to reveal that to anyone, most especially the man who treaded the lines of both the Light and the Dark. She remembered her steadfast determination and the pain in her parents' and uncle's eyes when she went against their wishes.

"_Are you insane, Dante? Sending Nala out there? And alone nonetheless!" Emilio argued._

"_Why not?" countered the Elder with thinning gray hair, Ophelia. "She graduated top of her class, was privately tutored by the best Jesuit wizards on the Asian continent. She's educated in both Ancient and modern magic. She's the best of the best."_

"_Exactly!" Emilio replied passionately. "We need her here, to teach the next generations."_

"_And what, leave her and her brilliance here to rot?" hit back another Elder. "We send her to Dumbledore and she gets to learn more than her peers will ever get the chance to learn! And when she comes back she'll be able to teach our children more than we could ever teach them."_

"_You send her out there, and she's going to get killed." Emilio turned his steely gaze at Nala. "She's brilliant, yes. In theory. But what of experience?" No one responded. "She has nothing to show for it."_

_Nala, who had been silent the whole debate, cleared her throat and caught the attention of the bickering Council. "That's enough, Uncle," she told Emilio softly. She turned to Elder Dante and calmly said, "I will accept, should the Council decide to send me."_

_Elder Dante gave her a curt nod. "Thank you for your courage, Nala. But the Council has not heard from Julio and Athena." Everyone turned to Nala's parents. "Have both of you anything to say about your daughter's pending assignment?"_

_Julio took Athena's hand. They looked at each for a moment, and at the same time they both turned to Nala. Her parents, her brave parents, who had almost died under Voldemort's wand, were looking at her now with concern, pride and fear. Nala blinked back the tears that were threatening to fall. The Council waited in silence for their remarks._

_It was Athena who spoke first. "Julio and I have seen firsthand what Voldemort is capable of. We were sent prepared with our knowledge and our magic, but we had not imagined the extent of Voldemort's understanding of the Dark. Suffice it to say, despite our education and our skills, we were ill-prepared to protect the Potters should we have arrived on time." Athena looked at her husband. He nodded at her, and she seemed to draw strength from that. "We assume that Dumbledore would have new knowledge on how to defeat Voldemort, and that is an advantage that we are grateful Nala has. However, we agree with Emilio when he says that Nala is not properly trained for this assignment. She has been sheltered behind the walls of our community, behind the walls of the Ateneo all her life."_

"_But nonetheless," her father continued, "we are confident that should the Council agree to send our daughter to assist Dumbledore in his plans to defeat Voldemort, she will rise up to the challenge valiantly and honorably. We shall not impede on the decision of the majority, however, we shall not participate in the voting."_

_Nala gazed at her parents lovingly as tears started to cascade down her cheeks. They had allowed her to follow her heart despite their objections. They were proud of her. They had faith in her. But they could not let her go. They were still, despite everything, her parents, and she was still their little girl._

"_Very well," Elder Dante announced, breaking the heartbreaking silence between Nala and her parents. "All those in favor of allowing the daughter of our community, Nala Dominique Ayala, to assist Dumbledore in the cause of the Light, please raise your hand." Six Elders raised their hands – her parents and Emilio did not, as expected. Nala nodded at Elder Dante indicating that she accepted the Council's decision. "May it be known that on this day, the twentieth of July, nineteen ninety-six, the Council of Elders of the Ancient people has agreed, six to nine, that Nala Dominique Ayala, aged twenty-three, will assist Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore in his cause to vanquish the Dark Lord Voldemort and safeguard the Wizarding population of Britain and the world from his Dark magic. May she be guided by the Ancient magic that lives within her." He paused for a moment. Then, "Call forth Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore for the oath-taking."_

Nala hadn't noticed that tears had started to fall. She wiped them away before the teardrops landed on the package on her lap, dampening the paper, leaving evidence of her melancholy, of her flaws. She would cry now, she would let it all out, and when she was done, she would plan again, start from scratch, use her genius. She would use theory – _damn Uncle Emilio to the ends of the earth – _and she would just have to earn experience as she went along. _Wasn't this all a learning experience, after all? _It was a question she wasn't sure she had the right to ask.

The devil's advocate within her answered. _Yes. A learning experience that would cost dozens, if not hundreds, of lives._

God, she missed her parents, and her home.

And dammit, could this place get any colder?

She took a deep breath, cast another warming charm around herself and put her emotions aside. There was time for that later. Now, it was Christmas at Hogwarts. She would be happy, she would smile and greet people that walked by her. She would be happy now because who knows when blood would start spilling?

She stood up, gathered some strength, smiled and headed towards the dungeons to Severus Snape's quarters.

* * *

><p>She found Snape sitting on his desk marking papers with a frown on his face. He didn't hear her enter, and she observed him for a while. The war was etched on his face, showing how <em>consumed <em>he was by his role as a spy. He had suffered too long and too hard. If she would not win this war for Dumbledore or for Harry, she would win this war for him, for his sacrifice.

Funny how she felt emotionally attached to this man she barely knew, this man who refused to open himself up to anyone.

"Still working during the holidays?" she said suddenly.

Snape looked up, surprised. He set aside the pile of essays he was grading and managed to give Nala a small smile. "It's the only thing I find normal these days." It was such a simple and ordinary statement, yet one that carried so much weight. Nala understood and nodded. "To what do I owe the pleasure? Aren't you due at the Burrow today?" he asked.

"The train doesn't leave for another half-hour." She walked towards him, carrying the small package on her left hand. "I came to greet you a happy Christmas, and to give you this." She extended the package to him.

He took it hesitantly from her, disbelief obvious on his face. "Should I open it?"

"Yes please."

He did, slowly and uncertainly. It was a book, a small one that was not bigger than the palm of hand. The binding was black and silver, and the book gave off a warm, blue glow. It was friendly and welcomed his touch.

Nala grinned, obviously contented with her choice for Snape's Christmas gift. "It likes you."

"You speak of it like it has a soul."

"Of course it does. All my people's books have souls."

Snape almost dropped it from shock. "Nala, this is... I can't accept this. I'm not... _like you_."

Nala shook her head. "Of course you can. Look." She took the book from him and opened it, showing him the contents. "It's a book on improving and strengthening mental barriers during Occlumency, and also has some techniques on fighting off torture and the Cruciatus. There are some pages you won't be able to see because you're not an Ancient, but those pages that you will be able to see would be very useful to you. Especially now that dark times are coming." She returned the book to him.

Snape was speechless. "Nala, I can't thank you enough. This is a wonderful and thoughtful gift. I don't deserve your kindness."

"Believe me, Severus, you deserve more than my kindness." There was silence between them as Snape studied the book in his hands. "Well, I best be going. Happy Christmas, Severus."

"Wait, Nala," Snape said as she was just about to leave.

"Yes?"

"How do you say 'Happy Christmas' in your language?"

"_Maligayang pasko,_" she told him with a smile.

"Well then, ah... _Maligayang pasko." _His British accent was thick and it sounded like gibberish to Nala, but she didn't care. She walked back to him and kissed his cheek. "I'll see you after the holidays. Stay safe." And then she was gone.

He returned to marking abysmal essays, Nala's gift tucked inside his robes near his heart, not knowing how to feel about all this.

* * *

><p>Christmas at the Burrow was probably the closest thing to Philippine Christmas that Nala was going to get. It was, for one, warm, which delighted Nala to no end. And the presence of more than a dozen people was quite a treat. She met Remus, Tonks, Kingsley, and other members of the Order. Food and drink were endless, provided round the clock by the wonderful Molly Weasley. Fred and George were persistent with their 'entertainment' (which was really just a showing of all new products of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes). Laughter was everywhere and for the first time since leaving her country, Nala felt a little semblance of home.<p>

"Nala." There was a comforting hand on her back. She put her mug of eggnog down and looked up at Arthur Weasley's pleasant, welcoming face. Nala hurriedly stood up. "Mr. Weasley."

Arthur chuckled. "Nala, please. Sit down. And call me Arthur."

"Yes, of course." They both sat down. "Thank you for having me in your lovely home for the holidays. I know it was on Dumbledore's orders, but nonetheless, thank you for your hospitality."

He waved away her gratitude. "Nonesense, Nala. Dumbledore's orders or not, we'd have you either way." He took a cookie from the plate in front of him. "How are things at home? Dumbledore was very vague about the reasons why you could not return to Spain for the holidays."

Nala gave a mental sigh of relief. Arthur's confirmation that her cover was intact to the rest of the Order members eased her restless mind. Despite Dumbledore's promise that only Snape, Minerva and Hermione Granger were to know the truth about her, she wanted to be sure. "He wants me close, I think. I prefer it too."

Arthur nodded. "Of course, of course. With the war brewing and all."

"Yes."

Just then, Hermione entered the living room, looking tentatively at both Arthur and Nala. "Mr. Weasley? Could I talk to Ms. Ayala for a bit?"

"Of course, Hermione." Arthur took another cookie from the plate and stood up. "I'll leave you two alone."

Hermione stood in front of her looking a slightly uncertain about what she was going to say. "Would you like to sit beside me, Hermione?" The girl nodded and took Arthur's seat beside Nala. Hermione remained silent, still not sure with how to go about talking to Nala. "Miss Ayala -"

"Call me Nala, Hermione. I'm not that much older than you," she said jokingly. Hermione smiled and lowered her head, but still she said nothing. "Don't be scared. I know why you want to talk to me - Dumbledore has told you, has he not?"

"Yes, and I've been to the library, but they don't seem to have any books about your kind. I have a lot of questions, Nala. I hope you don't mind me asking."

Nala laughed. "I've heard about your tenacity in class, Hermione. But I'm bound to answer any questions you might have, so ask away."

Hermione thought for a moment, going through her mental list of questions first. "Your country, the Philippines – is everyone an Ancient?"

"No. We're a people of a rather small population - no more than five thousand living in the islands of Palawan and Siquijor."

"And your magic, I don't quite understand how it's different from ours."

"Remember what Dumbledore used to say about Ancient Magic? About love being one of them, that it was a magic that no one really understands?" Hermione nodded. "Well, that's the magic that my people and I have. We are direct descendants of the very first witches and wizards, those that were here during the Creation. This magic is kept in our books and our rituals – we continue to learn, understand and wield it, unlike the rest of the wizarding world."

"That's fascinating," Hermione replied in awe. "So you are, essentially, more powerful than us?"

"I wouldn't say that, no. Our magic is different. We are attuned to a different set of magical laws." Nala shrugged. "That's the best way I can explain it."

Hermione changed the subject, temporarily contented with Nala's answers about her kind. "Dumbledore told me that your parents were here during the First War."

"Yes, that's correct," Nala affirmed her.

"Was it your parents, then, that saved Harry that night at Godric's Hollow?"

Nala smiled. Hermione was indeed the brightest witch of her age. "Well done, Hermione. Yes, it was my father who cast the Ancient spell that shielded Harry from Voldemort's Killing Curse. But it wouldn't have been possible without Lily Potter's sacrifice, I'm afraid," she told Hermione sadly. "Lily would have died either way."

"Oh." Hermione looked down at the floor.

"No one could have done anything to save Harry's parents, Hermione. Not even my mother and father." Nala lifted Hermione's chin to cheer her up. "Ask me another question."

Hermione hesitated, but proceeded nonetheless. "Dumbledore also said that you're here to protect us."

"Yes. I'm here to protect the school, protect you, Ron, and Harry."

"From Harry's lessons with Dumbledore, I'm under the impression that sooner or later, the three of us will go into hiding. If you're supposed to remain as the school's librarian, how will you be able to protect us?"

Nala smiled and took something out of her pocket. It was a simple gold chain with a small, flat, disc charm in the middle. "I've heard about the Dumbledore's Army coins that you created last year." She clasped the bracelet around Hermione's left hand. "This is something like that. Touch the charm with your thumb," she instructed Hermione. The Gryffindor did as she was told, and Nala uttered a short incantation that was foreign to Hermione's ears. "Now it's designed to respond only to your touch."

"So you'll know where we are?"

"Yes. When you need me, you need only to touch the charm and say my name. I will Apparate directly to where you are. _Wherever you are,_" she reiterated, and Hermione nodded. Nala's mood shifted from amused to somber. "Hermione, I'm sure Dumbledore has ordered you to keep this information in the strictest of confidences. You are not to tell even Ron and Harry, do you understand?"

Hermione nodded gravely. "Of course, I understand perfectly."

Then Nala smiled again. "Any more questions? I hardly think you're done with the interrogation."

Hermione laughed and shook her head. "I think that's all I need to know for now. There will be plenty of time to talk after this war is over." She touched Nala's knee. "I know how lonely it must be for you to be so far away from home. Thank you for doing this, Nala. Thank you for helping us. I don't know how else to express my gratitude."

"We fight the fights that need fighting, Hermione."

Hermione smiled at her in agreement, and as the Weasleys poured back in the living room for supper, Nala's thoughts lingered on what she had just told Hermione.

_But are these fights worth all the sacrifice?_

Nala took a good look at Hermione and Harry as they laughed at Bill's joke. They were so young, yet so burdened with responsibility. What in the world was Dumbledore thinking, playing with children's lives?

_There will be plenty of time to talk after the war, _Hermione had said. Nala smiled sadly. Provided, of course, that they all lived through it.

* * *

><p>He gripped the black velvet box tightly as he waited for Nala beside the entrance of her private quarters. She was due to arrive from her Christmas at the Burrow and he had expected her to arrive with the students on the Hogwarts Express, but the sun was setting and she wasn't in the castle yet. He was a little worried.<p>

But his worries were for naught. Not a second after he started thinking of going to Dumbledore to inform him of her absence, she practically bounced in the halls, happy as a little girl on her birthday. He stared at her in amusement. "I see you're cheerful today," Snape told her.

"Severus!" She rushed to him and gave him a big hug. "How was your Christmas?"

He scoffed. "Uneventful."

"Did you finish the book I gave you?"

"Yes. It is an amazing book, Nala. The knowledge it provides is indispensable. Thank you," he said gratefully.

"It's nothing, Severus." She opened the door to her quarters. "Well, do come in." She lit the fireplace and took of her coat as Snape made himself at home. "Hermione Granger talked to me while at the Burrow."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "She spent the holidays with the Weasleys?"

"Apparently Dumbledore thought it was safest that she stay away from her parents for a while." She set the tea on the coffee table and handed a cup to Snape.

"As much as I loathe to admit it, the Headmaster is right."

"The Headmaster is right about a lot of things, Severus."

"I loathe that about him, too."

She laughed.

"How was your Christmas, Nala?"

She shrugged. "It was alright. The sheer number of people in that tiny little house is enough to make anyone feel the Christmas spirit."

"You miss home?"

She smiled at him sadly. "Very much."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Don't be."

They were silent for a while, watching the fire burn in front of them. The hand Snape was resting on the black velvet box twitched in anxiety. Nala noticed his apprehension. "Severus, are you alright? You seem to be a little uneasy tonight."

"I wasn't sure about this, but after you gave me the book, I thought that this was the least that I could do." He handed her the box.

Both of them had gotten much closer ever since she had taken care of him that night he came back from the Dark Lord's Summons, writhing on the floor of his quarters. She was an interesting conversation partner, never hesitating to prove that she was right whenever they were in a debate – and as much as he didn't want to admit it, she was right most of the time. She was intelligent, fierce, and a breath of fresh air – despite the depressing tone of the war and the impending confrontation between the Light and the Dark, she was constantly smiling and laughing. _We won't have time to laugh later, _she would say as they spent long nights in the dungeons, talking about anything, _everything _but plans. But they would always end up talking about strategies and Dumbledore and Harry. They would always end up talking about how unsure they were of surviving the war.

He had enjoyed her company, her friendship and the hope that she had brought him. This was the least that he could do for everything that she had done for him and, he would imagine, the many more things she would do in the course of this war.

Nala opened the box and her eyes widened in surprise. "Severus, it's beautiful." It was a necklace - thin, silver chain that held a Slytherin-green pendant no bigger than Nala's thumb. The beauty was in its simplicity, and Nala absolutely loved it.

It was the necklace that at a point in his past, he wanted to give to Lily, a physical representation of his apology for calling her a Mudblood.

"It was my grandmother's. She bequeathed it to my mother when she married my father. It was among her possessions when she died," he told her, pushing away the memory of calling Lily a Mudblood, the memory of standing in front of the Fat Lady clutching the necklace in his hand, begging for Lily's forgiveness.

"It's beautiful. This is a family heirloom, Severus, I can't accept this." She handed him back the box.

He thrust back the box to her chest. "Heirloom? Please. This never saw the light of day in my mother's hands - she hated her own mother." He took the box from her, opened it and unclasped the necklace. "Please, Nala. It's the least I could do after all that you've done for me."

"But Severus, it's my job –"

"Please."

She sighed and nodded. "Alright. But just this once, do you understand?"

He smiled. "May I?"

She turned around and held her hair up, allowing Snape to clasp the necklace. She turned around and looked at him, the necklace hanging beautifully on her neck. "Thank you," she said.

"Happy Christmas, Nala." And without warning, he pulled her into a kiss.

In the years to come, he would never understand why he did it. Maybe because it was the softness of her skin on his fingertips when he put on the necklace, or maybe it was the scent of her hair, a scent he couldn't quite figure out (was it jasmine?). Either way, he did not care, because when he kissed her, she tasted like licorice and honey and it was _addicting. _No matter how much his mind screamed at the illogicality of it all, he followed his heart and his body, giving in to the want to touch her, to smell her, to taste her, to have her.

And when he did have her and they looked into each other's eyes, he found that he was no longer seeing Lily's bottomless green eyes and her beautiful face, but rather the intense hazel eyes and possessing features of this mysterious Nala that he held underneath him. She kissed him and together they went to explore the dimensions of human existence known only to both of them, connecting their magic, never to be separated.

* * *

><p>Later that night, as they dozed off in each other's arms, basking in the afterglow of making love, an unspoken ultimatum hung in the air around them: <em>this can never happen again.<em>


	5. Four

_Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is JKR's. I'm merely tinkering with her playthings._

_Author's Note: I have been the biggest arse. I'm dreadfully sorry for the long wait. School got in my way and I decided to see the semester to its end first before continuing with the story. This has in no way been abandoned—the semester is over and I have two months to spare before beginning my spring semester in Spain. Updates will be quicker, I hope. The only thing I'm preparing for right now is my trip to South Africa for a conference, but I don't think that will take up much of my time. For now, this story is at the forefront of my mind. I hope you are still there, reading and supporting our dear Severus. _

_As usual, reviews help feed my very hungry muse, so I'd appreciate it if you guys left me a word or two. _

_Cheers._

* * *

><p><em><span>Four<span>_

"_This is the power of the people from the heavens, these are the heavens from which they have come from. They are the Ancient people. This is who I am. I am from the heavens, the powerful one."_

With each passing day, Nala became more and more fearful of what was ahead of them, and as the days became darker and more dangerous, she found herself constantly chanting the Ancient Promise in her head, reassuring herself that her magic and her knowledge would get her and the rest of those fighting for the Light out of this war alive.

But she was deadly sure that this was not enough.

She was certain that she was falling in love with Severus Snape, and that made everything more perilous. She had come to Britain without any baggages, with just herself and only herself. Everyone she loved and cared for was safe behind the secret community of the Ancients. If she would fall, she would fall alone. No one else would have to suffer for her involvement in the war—they'd only have to mourn her death.

Snape was a liability to her, and she was pretty damn sure that _she _was a liability to Snape.

They had not repeated the passionate night in her quarters after the holidays, but nonetheless, she noticed the way he looked at her, the way he talked to her in the confines of the dungeons and her quarters. The dynamic between them had changed, and without a doubt, Severus Snape was falling in love with her as well, even if he would never admit it out loud. He was holding back, and she knew why. Dead women were the hardest to compete with, but Nala understood. What he did admit, however, was that their _affair _was complicating matters, and it would not do to continue it.

_This is the power of the people from the heavens, these are the heavens from which they have come from. They are the Ancient people. This is who I am. I am from the heavens, the powerful one._

She repeated the Promise in her head again, hoping, _praying _that this was enough to save her.

_To save him._

The least she could do in this war was save him, give him the second chance at a normal life, the peace he so deserved.

If possible, with her.

* * *

><p>She knew it was time, that it was <em>the moment, <em>when she felt the dread creeping up her spine, the feeling not unlike the time she found Snape in pain and writhing on the floor of his quarters.

She rushed to the dungeons in a mixture of panic and caution, expecting to see Death Eaters in the hallowed halls of Hogwarts, only to be met by the school's echoing emptiness. She found Snape in his office, marking papers, seemingly unaware of the dangers lurking around. She smiled despite the circumstances. How could everything seem normal when it was, in fact, the very opposite? "Severus," she called out, her voice hoarse from anxiety and fear.

He looked up to her and saw the disquiet in her eyes. "Is it time?" he asked her. His voice trembled despite the calm he masked the question with.

She nodded and approached him. "The Headmaster is out of the castle, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is with Potter."

"Then it won't be long." There were brisk footsteps outside of the dungeons. "Severus, please be careful, I—"

He silenced her with a kiss. It was fierce, possessive, and as much as he didn't want to stop, he let her go. This was his goodbye—the only goodbye he could give her. "Go now, before anyone sees you."

She gazed at him sadly and Disillusioned herself just as Professor Flitwick burst in the room.

_Death Eaters in the castle. Death Eaters in Hogwarts. _The peace had been broken, the war had begun.

* * *

><p><em>I am from the heavens<em>, _the powerful one, _she chanted in her head over and over again as she cast shield charm after shield charm to protect the students, Hogwarts professors and Order members fighting the Death Eaters that managed to enter the castle. She was still Disillusioned, and she could see the confusion in some of the students' faces as Dark spell after Dark spell was deflected. She was grateful that she could not be seen—Merlin knows how frightened she must look. She had spent months preparing for this moment, hours upon hours of conversation with Snape about the magical capacity of Death Eaters, strategizing and planning. She was prepared, sure. In theory. But being in the middle of it all, the reality of it all, well… She was unprepared to see battle face to face. She was scared shitless.

Maybe her Uncle Emilio was right after all.

_No, no, _she tried to convince herself, _I am not weak. _

She saved Ron Weasley from a Killing Curse and caught a glimpse of Snape's robes billowing up the stairwell to the Astronomy tower. She started to chase him but was flown back by a barrier. She cursed under her breath, ignoring the pain in her backside caused by hitting a wall. She cast another shield charm over the students, and with a swift motion of her wand, broke the barrier. She sprinted up the stairs, and when she reached top, realized that the atmosphere in the tower was much more intense than the battle happening on the ground. Draco Malfoy had his wand raised half-heartedly at Dumbledore, his face reluctant, almost in pain. Snape, however, had a determined look about him, his wand raised about a meter before the Headmaster. Four other Death Eaters, one Nala recognized as the insane Bellatrix Lestrange, had murderous, manic, euphoric looks about them.

_This is the moment. _Nala realized, yet strangely, she was as calm as her motherland's sea breeze. However gruesome, however immoral this act was, it needed to be done. She looked at her burdened, brave Severus, wand at the ready, primed to kill the man who had given him his second chance at life. She could see the slight hesitation in his face, and when Dumbledore had to beg him, she knew what she needed to do. She walked silently towards him and, with an almost inaudible tone, whispered to his right ear, "I'm here."

As if drawing strength from her voice and her presence, he cast the curse and Dumbledore's dead body fell from the Astronomy Tower. She stepped aside as Snape turned to his fellow Death Eaters. Bellatrix, her three brutish companions, and a terrorized Draco Malfoy began to go down the stairwell one by one, and before he left, Snape brushed his fingers faintly on her arm. "Go," she told him gently. _It's over, time to go! _she heard Snape say as he chased after his fellow Death Eaters. She followed him down, casting shield charms all over the place as the Order continued to attack the Death Eaters.

She noticed Harry run down to follow the fleeing Death Eaters now led by Snape. She removed her Disillusionment Charm and ran after the Boy Who Lived as he darted towards the Forbidden Forest. Harry screamed at Snape, hurling curses at him. "Harry!" she called nervously at him. "Harry, let them go!" She wrapped her arms around him, preventing him from running any further. "Let them go, Harry."

In between shouts of _No! _and _He killed Dumbledore, Snape killed Dumbledore, _she held the suffering boy in her arms as he wailed. Her chest felt like it would burst—she was in so much emotional pain, an intense pain that she had never felt before in her life. _So this is what war and death feels like._

She half-dragged, half-carried him towards the fallen Headmaster's body and she watched mournfully as Harry knelt beside Dumbledore, held his lifeless body in his arms, and wept. Her heart broke into a million pieces. _I am from the heavens, the powerful one, _she started to chant in her head again, but she had lost the meaning of the powerful Promise in between the curses, the shields and Dumbledore's death. Somehow, she no longer believed that she was an Ancient, a brilliant daughter of the Creators of magic. Right now, standing between the miserable Harry and the rest of Hogwarts gathered around the fallen Headmaster's body, she was just Nala, a simple librarian and just like the rest of them, a warrior in the war between the Light and the Dark.

* * *

><p>Only Dumbledore had died that night, but Bill Weasley had been seriously wounded by one of the Death Eaters whose name Nala did not exactly remember. She stayed for as long as she could in the Hospital Wing, but everything inside her hurt so much that she couldn't bear to linger and watch people hug their loved ones, thanking Merlin that everyone was alive.<p>

Is this why her uncle had refused to allow her to accept the assignment? Was it because he didn't want her to feel this pain? He had her best intentions at heart, but she knew she couldn't be sheltered in their community forever. For all her twenty-three years she had lived a good, happy and contented life. It was more than anyone could have asked for, yet she asked for this. She asked for war, and it was given to her. She asked for this pain.

More than anything in the world, she wished her parents were here. She wished her parents could embrace her, comfort her like Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were comforting their children.

Her quarters felt desolate and cold. She could not find comfort in the walls that she had called home for the past year—truth be told, it had already started to really feel like home. Maybe that was Snape's doing. His presence had given her comfort, a home away from home. Maybe he had even given her love.

Then it dawned on her. _Oh, god. Severus. _Without a moment's hesitation, she raced out to the Hogwarts grounds and as soon as she was at the Apparition point, disappeared to Spinner's End.

* * *

><p>The wards alerted him of a presence outside his modest cottage in Spinner's End. After all the dancing and drinking in Malfoy Manor to celebrate the death of Albus Dumbledore, he had asked the Dark Lord if he could retire for the night. Since the madman was pleased with him, he permitted Snape to leave the festivities early, no questions asked. He had checked up on Draco who was still agitated from what had transpired that night. The poor boy had escaped the Dark Lord's presence unscathed despite his failure—thank Merlin for small blessings. He was both physically and emotionally exhausted, but he held that crazy Auror Moody's motto to heart—<em>constant vigilance. <em>He raised his wand when the uninvited caller arrived on his territory.

He opened the door ready to strike, only to be greeted by Nala's devastated expression and equally raised wand. He searched for his voice. "What is the name of the wizard who sat to the left of Athena during a very important meeting?" he asked cautiously.

"Emilio." Nala cleared her throat. "What am I?"

"An Ancient," he answered.

Nala's shoulders relaxed and she exhaled in relief. "Are you alright?"

"As well as one can be under the circumstances." He yanked her sleeve and dragged her inside the house, fearing that he was being watched. He returned to the couch and to the Firewhiskey he was nursing. "Have a seat, make yourself at home. I'm afraid I don't have anything weaker than what I'm drinking at the moment, but judging by the look on your face, I don't suppose you'll want anything weaker."

Nala considered it for a moment but shook her head. "I don't need anything, but thank you for offering." She sat beside Snape on the couch.

"Is anyone dead back there?" he blurted out after what seemed to be a long silence.

"Bill Weasley was badly hurt by Fenrir Greyback. The rest were just minor injuries." She saw relief wash over his face. "No one else is dead, except…"

"Dumbledore," he completed for her.

The silence was deafening, the aching sorrow unfathomable. It took some time (a moment? Or perhaps an hour or two?) before Nala realized that Snape was crying soundlessly. She slid her arm around his, intertwined their fingers and rested her head on his shoulder. She draw lazy circles on his palm to comfort him, but she provided no reassurance. Dumbledore was dead, Dumbledore was gone. What would happen to him now?

"I will never have peace, will I?"

"Don't say that, Severus."

"Why not? I killed the only man who was the closest thing that I had to a father, the man who gave me a second chance and trusted me with everything." He sobbed quietly. "I killed him. I killed Albus Dumbledore." He gave her a deadly gaze. "I'm a murderer, Nala."

"War makes people do treacherous things, my dear. Killing Dumbledore wasn't one of them." She wiped away his tears and kissed his cheek tenderly. "You are no murderer. You know better than anyone that there was no other choice."

"What happens next, Nala? Is this all that's left of us? Dumbledore's leftover plans, scraps here and there? He left us with nothing to go on, and I doubt bloody Potter is in a better situation." He was angry now. There was no plan, and Dumbledore expected them to go on by faith. By love. Was that even enough? Could faith and love win them the war? He highly doubted it.

"We go on. That's what's next. We'll work on what we've got, Severus." She looked at him with a spirited expression—despite all the pain, she was a woman ready for the next battle. "We'll work on what we've got. Peace will come. Do not lose hope."

He nodded slowly, resigning to her resilience. She was a beauty, this one. She had fire within her, a spirit that he could not describe. And he fed off it like a leech on human flesh. "Hope." He kissed her forehead. "Hope," he repeated. He wrapped his arms around Nala as she tucked her head on the crook of his neck. He closed his eyes and inhaled her scent. Her presence in his house would be enough to compose him. For now. "You'll stay with me tonight?"

"For as long as you'll need me."

She woke him up at dawn with a soft kiss on his lips, in which he responded with a deeper, more passionate one, one that said _please don't leave me here alone. _She lingered there for a while, their foreheads touching. "I have to get back to Hogwarts," she said with a whisper. "They'll be wondering where I am."

"I know."

"When will we see each other again?"

"The tide will turn soon. I'll be back at Hogwarts before you know it." He kissed her again. "Go."

She turned swiftly and went out the door. He watched her Disapparate from the window, the serene light of the rising sun illuminating the spot where she had vanished. Without her, the house felt hollow again, empty, almost hostile. She was gone, and with her his hope.


	6. Five

_Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is JKR's. I'm merely tinkering with her playthings._

_Author's Note: Dreadfully sorry for the two-week wait. Position papers aren't easy to make, and I wasn't sure I wanted to post this without even writing a word of the sixth chapter (which I still haven't—don't kill me, please). I'll be writing for the next couple of days, so hopefully I'll be able to post the sixth chapter before I leave for South Africa on the 22__nd__. _

_Thank you to all those who included this humble fic in your story alerts and favorite lists. I just wish more of you guys would review and tell me what you think, what's good and what you think I should improve on. They really help. So please drop a word or two._

_Cheers._

* * *

><p><em><span>Five<span>_

There were three taps on Nala's window pane. She turned her head warily to the source of the sound, unsurprised to find an earth-colored owl struggling to get her attention. There was a letter attached to the bird's leg. Nala sighed, opened her window and handed her grandparents' majestic messenger a treat. She stared at the letter, her parents' insignia sealing the dreaded thing, and felt a huge headache coming along. Refusing to deal with the situation, she threw the letter on the pile on her desk. "You'll want a response this time around, I suppose," she told the owl. It hooted approvingly.

She sighed again, resigned to her fate. This was the seventh letter in the past two weeks—how her grandparents' owl was still alive after the almost nonstop flights from Spain to Scotland and back again was a mystery to her. She sat down and opened the letter.

_Our dearest Nala,_

_You have not answered your Uncle Emilio's letters, nor have you given a response to the Council's official letters. Your father and I are not surprised, but we're not pleased either. Ignoring the Council is not the best way to go, darling, especially in these times of war. But as of this writing, your father and I have decided to shed our Council robes; this is a parents' letter to their daughter._

_First of all, we miss you. We hope you know that._

_Second, and most importantly, we pray you understand what would be the consequences of your actions. Disobeying direct Council orders are of the gravest infractions in our community, Nala. But of course, you know this all too well. _

_Our darling girl, do not take this letter the wrong way. We are not forcing you to come home. We only ask that you think through your decisions very, very carefully—discern well, love. Whichever path you choose to take, your father and I will be here to support you, to defend you should the Council decide to put you on trial. We will be here for you until the very end._

_Your father and I want to tell you something, and I hope this helps you make up your mind. During the First War, we were also in the same fork in the road as you are in right now. After the death of the Potters, we both wanted to stay behind, have your uncle take you to London and build a life in Britain. We knew that Tom would return in some way or another, and since the possibility of a second war was highly likely, we wanted to be ready. The Council, however, ordered us to return home, arguing that the terms of our oath had been completed, and that rearing you in a non-Ancient community would be sacrilegious. They were right, of course, and your father and I didn't have the heart to go against the Elders' wishes._

_War is never easy, dear, and your father and I learned that the hard way. Seeing little Harry Potter parentless, consigned to those pitiful excuses of human beings was difficult, for me especially. And despite the fact that death has always been a part of the human experience, murder is never a pleasant thing to encounter. You can't imagine how upset your father was when he woke up from Tom's curse only to be welcomed by the sight of James Potter's lifeless body. We stayed with the Order for only two weeks, but both of us were shaken to our cores. We were forever changed. _

_We trust you remember the day the Council voted to send you off to war. We never explained to you why both your father and I abstained—well, it was precisely because we knew the pains of war, and as parents, we did not want you to experience that. But we knew you would have gone either way. You are our daughter after all._

_We are so proud of you, Nala. You have endured so much. You are an exemplary human being, and we could not have asked for a better daughter._

_Be safe, our darling, and when all this is over, come home to us._

_All our love,_

_Mom and Dad_

It was only when a tear landed on the parchment and smeared its blue ink that Nala realized she was crying. She let go of the letter and it fluttered to the ground. She was sobbing uncontrollably now, cradling herself as she sat slumped on her desk chair. Of course she missed her parents, and _oh _how she longed for their embrace, to be back in the safety and simplicity of life back at home.

She could always leave. Dumbledore was dead, and the oath officially terminated. Her job was theoretically done. She could pack up and return to her country, return to her life before the war. She could leave and never come back, pretend all this never happened.

Uncle Emilio's words echoed in her head, taunting her mercilessly. _You send her out there, and she's going to get killed._ _She's brilliant, yes. In theory. But what of experience? She has nothing to show for it. _Nala clenched her knuckles, the hurt and betrayal grasping her nerves. Was Uncle Emilio right, then? _No! I am not weak, nor am I a quitter. _With a sudden flash of determination mixed with anger, she took a scrap of parchment and replied to her parents' letter. She felt as though her heart was being torn from her chest as she wrote down the most traitorous words she had ever written in her entire life.

_I am not coming home._

She sealed her brief letter at once, attached it to the waiting owl's leg and ordered the damn bird to go, deliver her message to her grandparents in Spain who would, in turn, deliver it to the Philippines via secret channels. The decision was made. She had crossed the Rubicon, and there was no turning back.

She supposed the decision was made ages ago when—she really couldn't say when the exact moment was—she realized that she could not possibly leave Severus Snape behind on his own without any support, without any _love. _The austere Potions Master would never admit it, but he needed her, and she needed him all the same. In order for the Light to win this war, they needed each other to hold on to.

_If it's any consolation, Dumbledore's plan is working, _she told herself. It was a small comfort—after the Ministry had fallen into the hands of the Dark Lord, the madman had quickly assigned Snape to the Headmaster's post, much to Nala's relief. There was no need for secret messages or sub rosa meetings. They could plan in the safety of the Headmaster's office with the guidance of Dumbledore's portrait.

Thank heavens for small blessings, after all.

She took a deep breath to calm herself down. Wiping away her tears, she proceeded to open the letters that came before her parents', scanned their contents and threw them in the fire. As she was about to burn the Council's last letter (a more apt term would be summons, Nala thought), her fire turned green and Minerva McGonagall's face came in view.

"Good evening, Nala."

"Minerva! You startled me."

"Oh, I'm sorry, dear. Can I come through?"

"Of course!"

A moment later, the Deputy Headmistress appeared from the fireplace. Her face was serious, if not gloomy. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

Nala shook her head. "No, not at all. Have a seat. May I offer you anything?" Minerva shook her head and they both sat opposite each other in the living area. "Is there something you wanted to talk to me about?"

The old witch had a sombre look about her, and her lips formed a straight thin line. Was that disappointment that Nala sensed? Or was it displeasure? "I want to discuss the night Albus died."

_Ah. Of course. _"What about it?" Nala maintained a placid, unflustered disposition. She knew where this conversation was heading.

Minerva lost her self-control. "You let Albus die. You let _him _murder our Headmaster!"

There was silence and the Deputy Headmaster's rage filled the air around them. Nala considered the Minerva McGonagall carefully, keeping her temper in check. This was not the time to fight anger with anger. "I did no such thing, Minerva," Nala replied calmly.

"You said your job was to protect, that you would do everything in your power to keep everyone safe. You failed." Minerva, despite her anger, looked like she was about to cry. "You _failed." _And tears did start to cascade down her cheeks. She buried her face in her hands.

"Minerva," Nala said tenderly. "_Minerva." _McGonagall lifted her head and looked at Nala. "I did nothing that would jeopardize the safety of the school and the Order. I did what I vowed to do."

"And why should I believe you? Death Eaters roam Hogwarts' halls, and Voldemort's right hand man sits where Dumbledore did. _The man who murdered him is Hogwarts' Headmaster." _Her eyes were threatening, almost as if she was ready to hex—maybe even murder—Nala.

Nala was not fazed. She remained unruffled despite her friend's accusations. "Everything I did, I did to protect the school and its students," she repeated, her voice equable and her manner composed. Her eyes, however, returned Minerva's hostile gaze.

Without another word, Minerva walked to the fireplace and disappeared in the green flames.

She had made an unlikely enemy in Minerva McGonagall. Nala knew it was necessary, but it disheartened her nonetheless. It would have made things easier if the old witch would believe her—another _friend_ in her circle would have been of great help. But alas, you can't always get what you want. _She'll realize soon enough, _Nala hoped.

A trip to the Headmaster's office was long overdue. She had not spoken to Severus much since the incident at the Astronomy Tower, and she badly wanted to see his face and hear his voice. She would just have to trust that Minerva would see reason in due time.

The walk to the Headmaster's office was silent and a little eerie. The school ghosts were nowhere to be found—not even Peeves' crude songs could be heard echoing in the walls. It seemed like _everyone _and _everything _was still mourning Albus Dumbledore's death. Well, truth be told, so was she. Despite the fact that she did not wholly approve of Dumbledore's methods, he still had been a great wizard with, at the bottom of it all, good intentions. Machiavellian, sure, but evil? Definitely not. Besides, it was the late Headmaster who had sacrificed himself for the cause. That was good enough in her books.

"The Headmaster is not in," said the gargoyle.

Worry creeped up to her stomach. She had not been informed that he had been summoned, and seeing as Dumbledore was dead and her oath had ended when he took his last breath, she would not be forewarned of any perilous conditions. "Where is he?"

"Out on the grounds giving instructions to the gamekeeper, I believe."

Relief washed over her._ Hagrid. He's just with Hagrid. Relax, Nala._ "May I wait in his office?"

"Suit yourself. Password?"

"Paz."

The gargoyle gave her a curt nod and stepped aside, revealing the staircase to the Headmaster's office. "Tell the new Headmaster that Dumbledore's passwords were far more interesting."

Nala laughed. "I'll be sure to relay your message."

"What does this new password mean, anyway? Would you know?"

She smiled knowingly at the talking statue. "It's the Spanish word for peace."

The gargoyle rolled its eyes. "See, how unimaginative."

Nala scoffed in her head. _Unimaginative? Oh, my dear gargoyle, you have no idea. _But instead of replying to its comment, she smiled at the gargoyle, thanked it and proceeded upstairs to the office.

It was her first time to be in this sacred space since that fateful night at the Astronomy Tower, and she was surprised to find that the Headmaster's office remained the same even after Dumbledore's death. The little trinkets, the shelves upon shelves of both magical and Muggle books—it seemed that only the bowls of sweets scattered around the office were missing. She sighed and remembered the first time she came into this legendary room, the first time that she had met Severus Snape. That night seemed like a millennia ago, and the Nala who was present that night was no longer the same as the Nala standing in the middle of the Headmaster's office today.

"It's good to see you, Nala."

She looked up and saw Dumbledore's portrait looking down at her with proud and caring eyes. "Dumbledore."

"Dear girl, you are still here," he said with that mischievous Dumbledore twinkle in his eye.

Nala raised an eyebrow. "Did you think I would leave after your death?"

"I hoped you wouldn't."

"What made you so sure I would disobey Council orders?"

"I did not think you would have left Severus on his own, not without anyone knowing the truth of where his loyalties truly lie," he said simply.

"Did you…" she began, unsure of her next question. "Was all this part of your plan, Dumbledore?"

"_This _meaning…?"

"Well, me deciding to stay."

He smiled knowingly. "Planned it? No, I wouldn't say that. But I knew the people who raised you, and I figured that you would be as honorable as your parents." He coughed. "I relied heavily on your youth and your, for the lack of a better term, _unattached_ status. During the First War, your young parents had you—naturally I did not expect them to linger after Tom vanished. But you, my dear, are on your own, without anything holding you back. I expected that you would make a decision based on necessity and not on allegiance and oaths, and I was right."

"And this… relationship I have with Severus?" she asked tentatively.

Dumbledore chuckled. "That was no plan, my dear Nala. That was both your doing, and despite my initial reservations, I'm all too happy that it worked out that way."

"And why would that be?"

"I have not, for one minute, doubted Severus' loyalties, mind you, but his love for you all the more strengthens his fidelity to the cause. He has something to fight for now, something to look forward to after the war. I've said this before and I will say it again: love is of vital importance in this war—in any war."

Nala smiled despite herself. "You bank too much on love, Dumbledore. Love alone is not enough to finish Tom off," she said softly.

"On the contrary, my dear, I think not."

"Why do you say so?"

He took off his glasses and wiped its lenses with a white handkerchief. "When I had become suspicious of your relationship, I told Severus that the moment he stops fighting for Lily is the moment we lose this war. I was wrong, I think, to have said that." He finished cleaning and put back on the half-moon spectacles. "I should have said that the moment he stops fighting _for love_ is the moment we lose this war. Love is a powerful thing, Nala. It makes one fight to the ends of the earth, no matter what the cost, no matter how heavy the sacrifice. Look at Lily, James, Sirius, and so many others who lost their lives for this cause. They only had one thing in their minds: _to protect those that they loved."_

Nala swallowed as she felt the tears welling up in her eyes. "And you really think that Severus—"

"Loves you? Very much so, my dear. He has never said it, but I can see it in his eyes."

"I can't compete with a dead woman, Dumbledore." She choked as she held back the tears that were threatening to fall. She looked away. She would not let Dumbledore see her cry.

Dumbledore tilted his head to the side, studying her. "Why would you compete with a dead woman? The living and breathing one would win singlehandedly, my dear, if that was the case." Nala laughed. "Give him time," he continued. "He will let go of her soon enough, and he will see how rewarding it is to love someone who loves him back."

"I could only hope."

"Love, hope and faith, Nala. Those are the three things that win wars."

She gave him a small smile. "Thank you, Dumbledore. Your portrait self is not as maddening as when you were still alive."

Dumbledore's laugh boomed across the room. "You are so much like him, you know." He chuckled again, but then became serious. "And thank you, Nala."

"Whatever for?" There were footsteps and the click of a doorknob.

"For staying even when you had accomplished your oath. For disobeying direct Council orders. I can imagine how grave the repercussions will be once you return to the Philippines."

"Ehem." Nala turned around and found Snape standing near the office entrance. "I see you're both enjoying yourselves."

"Severus. Are you alone?"

He nodded. "I would like to have a word with you in my quarters." Before she could reply, he dragged her through the door behind the gigantic Headmaster's desk. He slammed the door behind them and looked at Nala angrily. "Are you insane?"

"What are you talking about?" Nala asked, confused.

"Don't play the ignorant card with me. I heard what Dumbledore said. Disobeying direct Council orders. _Staying. _You can go home now. You can be _safe._"

"I chose to stay, Severus. You can't convince me otherwise."

"I don't think you understand." He gripped her shoulders. "I cannot be responsible for one more life when I have those three dunderheads to think about."

"Why is it that you think _everyone's _life is your responsibility?" Nala shook herself free from his clutches, her eyes fierce and ready for a fight. "I can take care of myself, thank you very much. No one is responsible for my life but myself."

"Because it _is_, Nala. All our lives depend on how well we play our roles—how well I play mine. Can you imagine the consequences if I fuck this all up?" Severus returned her fierce gaze with a livid one. "You think this is all a game?"

"Jesus _fucking _Christ, Severus Snape. Do you honestly believe I'm just _playing _here? You think I don't know how important your role is in this war? Of course I do! These are people's _lives _we're talking about! Do you think I'm just traipsing around Hogwarts, being all happy and fluffy and gay as the flowers in the springtime? I am at the edge _every fucking moment_, hoping that I will never hear Hermione Granger's voice in my head, asking for assistance." She crossed her arms, angry at his lack of faith in her. "I did not make the decision to stay lightly, Severus. I weighed all the options, considered all the angles. If you think my brilliant mind made the wrong decision, then it is perhaps _your _brilliant mind that has erred."

If he was affected by Nala's outburst, he did not show it. He did not even flinch. "Go home, Nala." His opinion had not changed.

"No. I will not turn my back on the people who need me. I am not a deserter, nor am I a coward." She continued to fix her steely gaze on Snape, waiting for his retort. When none came, she walked calmly but indignantly towards the door, but suddenly stopped dead in her tracks.

_Nala! Nala! _Well, speak of the devil and the devil shall come. It was Hermione Granger using her charmed bracelet to call for Nala's assistance. She turned to Severus to inform him of Hermione's call, but it seemed that he too was being summoned—his face was in a twisted, pained expression as he gripped his left arm. _"_The Dark Lord is summoning me," he informed her simply.

"It seems I am being called as well."

"Miss Granger?"

Nala nodded. "Do you think they could be related?"

"Most likely. Go now before any one of them dies. You can Apparate anywhere in the castle. I have set the wards to allow you to do so." And with that, he Disapparated.

Nala took a deep breath and followed suit, hoping for the best but expecting the worst.

* * *

><p>The first thing Nala saw was blood, and the first thing she heard was a desperate and panicking Hermione, murmuring <em>please come, please come <em>as the young witch held a pale, unconscious and bleeding Ron Weasley in her arms. Harry Potter was standing beside his distraught friend, crying and not knowing exactly what to do. It was a distressing sight, seeing the three young wizards helpless and all alone. She could not imagine how hard it must be for them to carry a burden so heavy as saving Wizarding Britain. It was images like these that made Nala doubt Dumbledore's sanity and empathy.

But she put those thoughts aside and placed the needs of the three young wizards at the forefront of her mind. "Hermione, you called for me?" she said gently, declaring and easing her presence into the already complicated situation. Hermione and Harry turned to her, the young witch's face changed from almost hysterical to slight relief, and Harry's from helpless and overwrought to a mixture of confusion and distrust. "What happened?" Nala kneeled over to the unconscious Ron Weasley and diagnosed him through a series of spells.

"We Apparated and Ron splinched. I already put Dittany on his wounds but he's still bleeding and I… I don't know what else to do. Please help him, Nala!" Hermione was gripping on Harry's shoulder.

Nala gave the two a serene smile, hoping that both of them would calm down. "Don't worry about Ron, he'll be fine. Now why don't you both freshen up and set some wards over this place while I finish healing your friend, alright?"

While Hermione was intent on following Nala's instructions, Harry had other ideas. "Wait, wait." He seized Hermione's left arm as she tried to leave his side to set up wards. He raised his wand towards Nala. "How did she know we were here?" Hermione could not reply, looking to Nala for answers. The heavy silence only intensified Harry's distrust of Nala and the whole situation. "Answer me, Hermione!"

"Harry please, she's here to help us!" Hermione pleaded.

Nala cast the final healing spell and stood up to face Harry and Hermione. "Harry, I want you to lower your wand, let go of Hermione, and relax. Can you do that for me?" she asked Harry calmly.

Harry gave her a steely look. "Only if you lower your wand first."

"Alright, then." She placed her wand on the ground and stood up. "Your move, Mr. Potter." Harry did as he was told but maintained his unforgiving gaze on Nala's person. There was a long, uncomfortable silence as Nala and Harry stared each other while Hermione looked over at Ron worriedly.

It was Harry who broke the ice. "How did you find us?"

Nala was unfazed. "You can get your answers from Miss Granger, Mr. Potter. Right now, I'm more concerned with Mr. Weasley's wounds than your interrogation. I'm not here to hurt you, Harry. If I were, you and your friends would be dead by now." She turned to Hermione. "Miss Granger, please set up a more comfortable surface for Mr. Weasley to lie on. I've healed his wounds, but he will need time to regenerate all the blood he's lost. I would appreciate it if you helped her, Mr. Potter." Her tone was commanding yet tender.

Harry flinched and Hermione took that as an acquiescence to Nala's instructions. She hurriedly set up a tent and levitated Ron inside. Nala took leave of the staring contest between her and the Boy Who Lived and inspected the perimeter. Harry kept observing her, following her every move. It was during all this when Nala noticed a strange, rather malevolent hissing noise coming from Harry's direction. "Harry, do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"There's an odd hissing—_Harry, put that down!"_

There was a loud _thud_. Harry had dropped the enormous locket out of sheer surprise. Hermione's head popped out from the tent that she had just assembled a minutes ago. Nala pointed her wand to the seemingly helpless locket on the ground. But it wasn't helpless—far from it. The locket was malicious, and Nala felt the evil creeping up her skin like a vindictive snake ready to choke her to death and eat her remains.

Harry and Hermione observed her carefully as Nala inched closer towards the locket, the terror in their eyes as clear as the sun in the Philippine summer. As she reached for the locket, Harry acted swiftly and retrieved it from the ground. "This is none of your business," he told her harshly. He raised his wand at Nala once again.

"I don't care where you got that or how you got it. I want to know _why _you have something as evil as that locket in your possession." Nala's voice had transformed from gentle and serene to somber and alarmed. "That is not a toy you're holding, Harry. _Put it down._"

"No." Harry was defiant. "I've spent a good amount of grief getting this locket, and I'm not letting you boss me around like we're in Hogwarts. You think I don't know what this is? This bloody thing helped kill Dumbledore. I'm not stupid enough to underestimate it."

"You don't know what you're dealing with."

"You're right, we don't. Not really. But Dumbledore trusted me enough to handle this, and I trust him. So I've got to trust myself and my friends."

Nala's heart tightened. "Dumbledore? Dumbledore put you up to this?"

Neither Harry nor Hermione answered.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Albus," Nala muttered under her breath. "And did Dumbledore so much as tell you how to destroy this item?"

It was Hermione who spoke this time. "Do _you_ know how?"

_I swear to god, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, if you ever get the chance to live again, I'll send you to hell and back again like a never-ending cycle of your worst nightmares. _So this was Dumbledore's secret task for the children—to be left on their own, without any assistance or knowledge of how to kill those…those Things That Must Not Be Named. Sometimes she wondered how good Albus truly was, and at this moment she wasn't entirely sure. But she was most definitely sure that the former Headmaster was insane. How could you expect so much from these kids?

And there was this question that ate her up inside: what was Dumbledore's point of letting these children go in blind? Surely he must have had a reason why he kept Harry in the dark about how to destroy horcruxes. Nala's wand hand flinched, unsure of exactly what to say to Harry and Hermione. "In theory, yes—and I'm pretty sure Hermione does as well." The young witch nodded, hope evident in her eyes. "But right now, no." That hope was gone in an instant. "It's his, isn't it? How many are there?" she asked Harry.

"Yes, its Tom's, and there are seven. Two others have been destroyed."

Nala sighed. Four more to eliminate, and they had to kill Voldemort himself. _Seriously, Albus, how could you expect so much from these kids? _"I'm not comfortable talking about this outside. If we could just move inside the tent, that'd be swell. And Hermione, your wards?"

Hermione jerked, suddenly remembering her duties. She nodded and proceeded to set up the wards around their perimeter while Harry and Nala headed inside the tent. Nala checked up on Ron—he was still unconscious but his breathing was no longer labored and there was color in his lips and cheeks again. _Thank Merlin for small miracles. _She sat beside Harry on the table where he was staring at the locket. Nala put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I don't know how to destroy that thing yet, but I will find a solution. Trust me," she assured him.

Harry buried his face in his hands. "Sometimes, I just…I just don't know if I can do this anymore."

"Oh, Harry." She took his hand. "I know this is too much for a young man like you to handle. I don't wholly believe that you should be out here on your own, but this is Dumbledore's plan and," _as much as I hate to say it, _she added in her head, "we will keep it that way. I will always be around if you need me, alright? You can trust me."

Harry nodded but said nothing. Hermione entered the tent, her face and body language exhausted.

"Get some rest, both of you. Please do not wear the locket for long periods of time." She gave Harry a hug and got up. "Hermione, you know how to contact me."

Hermione smiled at her sadly and hugged her. "Thank you for everything, Nala."

Nala smiled and whispered something in Hermione's ear to avoid Harry from hearing. "He'll be asking questions. Answer him without telling him the whole story." Hermione understood what she meant and nodded.

"Be safe, the three of you." And with that, she left the tent and returned to Hogwarts, fearful of the news Snape would be bringing back to her.


End file.
